


A Glitch in the System

by gimmefire



Series: AC/DC [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Superpowers, Technopathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-05
Updated: 2009-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-03 16:59:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimmefire/pseuds/gimmefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"I'll pay for everything, y'know," he assured with a degree of embarrassment, concentrating on picking his nails. "We'd best check the front room, I, uh, don't know what my radius is."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Glitch in the System

**Author's Note:**

> Superpower: Technopathy. Prompt words used: fail, tatters, impact. Prequel to a longer fic. Equal parts fluff and mild angst. Thanks to [Evaine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/evaine) for the beta and the title. :) Written for [](http://f1slash.livejournal.com/profile)[f1slash](http://f1slash.livejournal.com/)'s [Summer Slash 2009](http://www.designbymarie.com/Summer09/index.php).

_Monaco, 2007. Jenson's apartment._

"I know it's a massive cliché, but...I can assure you, that's never happened to me before."

David did his level best to keep the tremor out of his voice as he spoke. Slowly diminishing pleasure throbbed gently through his body, which was to be expected, but it was proving to be an awkward mix with the intense, cold, inward sensation that usually came after an entirely different, uniquely personal activity. And now, alongside these wholly different feelings, there was a deep-seated anxiety that had crashed over him as a result of it all. Jenson, sat beside him in the bed, laughed a little nervously.

"Well, I've gotta say, I never expected anything like that from you."

Another little laugh, this time from David. He glanced around the darkened room, the faint yet acrid whiff of smoke still tainting the cool night air; again an awkward mix with the more expected scent of sweat and sex. The stereo, the television, the DVD player, that satellite radio thing, both their mobiles, he remembered there being a laptop in here, Christ…

"I'll pay for everything, y'know," he assured with a degree of embarrassment, concentrating on picking his nails. "We'd best check the front room, I, uh, don't know what my radius is."

 _Fucking 'don't know what my radius is'_ , he repeated to himself. _That sounds mental._ You _sound mental._

David's heart was still pounding and he was sure it wasn't from the recent physical activity. This definitely wasn't supposed to happen like this. In fact, there was a quiet voice in the back of his mind telling him that it was never supposed to happen at all, and the more thought he gave to that notion, the more anxious he felt. Inexplicably he was finding comfort in the press of Jenson's thigh against his own. Comfort in contact; Jenson was still there, he hadn't run a mile. Not yet, anyway.

David noticed now that the anxiety he still felt had formed a knot in his stomach, settling with the coldness that came with a large expenditure of his power. He was never usually prone to so much anxiety, but then again he'd never been in this situation. He'd never lost control of his ability, not in front of anyone. Perhaps worse than that, it was beginning to dawn on him, through the gradually unmuddling minutes of bliss in his recent memory, that he hadn't lost control in the heat of the moment.

He had given it up.

 _He's going to think that the pressures of fame have fucking gotten to you or something, and start asking you if you should be driving in this mental state,_ that pessimistic, nasty little inward voice insisted. _Or he's going to think you're joking, and where the fuck will that leave you? You've stuffed this right up. That's this night in tatters, and God knows how many more. Fucking hell._

"It's never happened to you before?" Jenson asked, pulling him away from his thoughts.

"No," David murmured, letting his hands still. He became aware of the frown etched across his brow. Then, more to himself than anything, "But I've never let go like that before."

"No?"

David turned his head. In the relative gloom of their room he found a smile to match the soft surprise in the younger man's voice – and, it had to be said, there was a rather pleased sparkle in Jenson's eyes. At that, David could finally muster a genuine smile of his own.

"No," he professed, actually feeling a little amazed by the whole thing and not caring to hide that fact. "Never felt anything like it."

A lengthy but comfortable pause followed, each apparently lost in their own thoughts, before the bed creaked and dipped slightly. The familiar sharp graze of beard preceded the sweet press of Jenson's lips against David's shoulder, and the Scot was further soothed by fingertips tracing slowly across his back. The smell of smoke had faded.

"You okay?" David asked quietly.

Jenson hummed in assent as he planted another kiss. "Trying to get my head round it, really – you _talk_ to technology?"

David snuffed a laugh, mildly embarrassed again. It sounded ridiculous put like that, childish even, but in the seven years that he'd had the ability, he'd never been able to think of a more refined explanation that summed it up so well. "Suppose I do, yeah. On this occasion I think I was so wrapped up in someone—" and here he quirked an eyebrow, allowing his gaze to roam over Jenson's lithe body, sweat sheen catching the faint light from outside and highlighting its contours— "that I involuntarily shouted really loudly at it until it all blew up."

The movement of Jenson's fingertips slowed to a stop momentarily. "Fuckin' hell," he offered, sounding perfectly baffled but nonetheless happy. He looked to his other side and picked up the now broken satellite radio, tugging at the cord to make sure it was plugged in before pressing a few buttons to no avail. The LED screen remained blank, the radio remained silent.

"Lucky I've got a few bob," David sighed, again wondering what the damage might be in the next room. He had to hope that it hadn't extended to next door. "Don't suppose you got any of this from Carrefour, eh?" He watched Jenson try and fail but continue to fiddle with the radio, still seemingly mystified, still trying to make it function again through some secret combination of button presses. This all felt odd; Jenson suddenly becoming the first person to know of his ability, and though it was extremely early days – too early for Jenson to have thought about the true impact of it, too early for the questions to start – he was thus far accepting, even curious. This time together right now was important. Precious.

David shifted closer, tangling a leg with Jenson's and slipping a hand around his waist.

"Here," he gestured for Jenson to bring the radio closer. "This won't be permanent, but it'll do for now."

His free hand moved to touch that radio in Jenson's hands, and he watched the amazement dawn on the younger man's face as it was illuminated by the LED display. The station numbers cycled through, sound occasionally flickering from the speaker and giving just the barest hint of the scope of music unfurling and extending into David's mind and through his whole body. Finally he settled upon something.

_"Get outta my dreams, get into my car…Get outta my dreams, get in the back seat baby…"_

An incredulous laugh sputtered from Jenson and he leaned against the man pressed close to him, staring at the radio. "Fuckin' hell," he whispered.

For a while they simply sat and listened, bathed in the radio's blue glow. When David dipped his head to nuzzle at Jenson's neck, dripping kisses over his skin, Jenson spoke up.

"You couldn't make my car go any faster, could you?"

David snorted, grazing teeth over tanned flesh. That knot in his stomach had disappeared. "I'm not a fucking miracle worker, Jense."


End file.
